


Rosemary for Remembrance

by LotusFlair



Series: Magnus Season 5 Codas [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Apocalyptic Roadtrip, Coda, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Isolation, M/M, Memory, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Episode: MAG 170 Recollection, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusFlair/pseuds/LotusFlair
Summary: Smell can trigger powerful memories and Jon always smells like home. Free of the Lonely's domain, Jon and Martin keep each other anchored through the next phase of their journey.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Magnus Season 5 Codas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763854
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111





	Rosemary for Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> The title originated with Ophelia's speech in Hamlet, but rosemary is actually a scent that I associate with my grandmother when she'd make spaghetti sauce. When I'd help, she'd pour some dried rosemary into my palm and told me to rub the herb to "wake it up" and my hands always smelled like rosemary. So, yeah, memories...
> 
> Anyway, you can find me @darling_sammy on Twitter and check out my website, POP Archives, @ www.pop-archives.com

Their exit from the House, from the Lonely, wasn't too dissimilar from their previous exit not so long ago. Jon's grip on his hand was stronger than titanium and he kept pace with Martin's step regardless of the speed. It felt different, though. **He** felt different. The first time he'd walked away from the beach and the fog, he was numb, exhausted from the effort of touching and talking when all he wanted to do was curl up in a corner and let the world wash over him. Wash him away.

He didn't feel that now. This time he felt renewed, reinvigorated despite the emotional toll of his experience within the Lonely's new domain. Jon may have come for him, again, but he'd only found him because Martin wanted it to happen. He pulled himself out. He made sure Jon knew where to find him because he didn't want to be alone. He wasn't alone. He had Jon and that was enough. They were together. They were in love and they were going to try and save the world.

The smells lingered. The combination of chemicals and damp earth seemed determined to invade his senses. He could still feel the tape recorder in his hand and when he looked down he nearly jumped at the sight of the recorder still nestled in his palm, still listening like it had always been there. Was it the benign manifestation of Jon's power or was it more sinister than even Martin could comprehend? He didn't feel like contemplating the subject. Instead, he stopped their pace and threw the recorder as far as he could. He heard it land somewhere in the distance, but he didn't care about it's point of impact.

He turned to meet Jon's confused expression. He started to speak, but Martin pulled him close, hugging him as tightly as possible. Jon hugged him back, matching his intensity because they both knew what they might have lost if Martin had decided to stay behind. He was taller than Jon, which gave him plenty of space to lay his cheek on top of Jon's head. He nuzzled his nose into Jon's salt and pepper hair and took in a deep breath.

Jon smelled like amber and fine leather. He smelled like paper and ink. He smelled like sweat and tears.

He smelled like home.

"Can we sit for a bit?" Jon asked.

"I thought you didn't get tired," Martin said.

"I feel like sitting's a good idea," Jon responded.

They dropped their bags and sat together on the broken landscape. Jon reached for him, his hands cradling Martin's face like he was made of precious gemstones wrapped in satin. Such a delicate touch from a man known primarily for his abrasiveness. If the others could see Jon now...they'd hardly recognize him. But Martin knew him, the real Jonathan Sims. No, that wasn't right. Martin knew this version of Jon. People changed all the time, reinventing themselves for better or worse. This was Jon now and, regardless of the powers imbued by a god of fear, Martin was so incredibly thankful to love and be loved by him. Their love had literally saved him. Twice.

"I don't...I don't know what to say," Jon started. There was a quiver in his voice that Martin recognized. Jon was already blaming himself, fighting his emotions so fiercely in order to stack his guilt even higher. Martin laid his hands over Jon's, pressing his cheek closer to the warmth of his partner's hands.

"You don't have to say anything," Martin said. "Sometimes there's nothing to say."

"There's _everything_ to say," Jon argued. He paused, silence covering them as he chose his words. "I didn't - I didn't mean to leave you."

"I know, Jon," Martin said. He could see the distress on Jon's face. It was heartbreaking.

"I turned for a moment and you were gone," Jon said. "There was just fog and then I saw the house and I Knew it was--"

"The Lonely," Martin finished, but Jon shook his head.

"Mooreland Manor," Jon said.

"What? Peter's family estate?" Martin said. There was no sign of the house anymore, just a fog bank too thick to see through. It was there. Martin could feel it in his bones. "Huh. I don't think he would've enjoyed all of those lost souls in there."

"Too much social interaction," Jon said, dryly. Martin smiled, glad to at least hear Jon's humor ringing true. But Jon wasn't done with his self-flagellation. He brought Martin's hands down, holding them in the small gap between their bodies. "I thought you might've left me after what happened with Jude. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did. I'd want to escape me after everything that's happened."

"I wasn't trying to escape you," Martin said. "I just...fell behind. I wasn't paying attention, caught up in my own head and then...I was in the fog. Again. It smelled..."

"Like what?"

"Like death. Like hospitals and graves and everything that wasn't you," Martin said. "I kept thinking it was my house, but it couldn't be because it didn't smell like you. You're home to me, Jon."

Jon swallowed thickly, a dark blush to his skin and budding tears in his eyes. "What does - what do I smell like?"

Martin revealed his short list of scents. Jon nodded thoughtfully, a soft smile curling around his lips.

"Is it weird that I - that I know what you smell like?" Jon asked. Martin shook his head.

"Not at all," he said. "What's, uh, what's my fragrance of note?"

"Well...tea, obviously," Jon began. Martin arched an eyebrow at the easiest of answers, but he knew Jon wasn't done. "There's also...early morning grass and rain before the day has settled. That soft smell of fresh linen. And...rosemary."

"Rosemary?"

"There was a plant outside the cabin - before the Change - and you'd pick from it to add to whatever we were making for dinner," Jon said. "Whenever I'd hug you or...kiss you there was a hint of rosemary on your skin. Sometimes I can still smell it on you, but I'm not sure if it's there or if it's a phantom memory of when we were...content. Together."

Martin made no effort to stop his tears from trickling down his face. "That's a good memory to have regardless of the circumstances."

Jon kept hold of one hand, but reached out to dash away the tears from Martin's face. It was a familiar gesture at this point, one they'd perfected during their time in Scotland.

"Do you miss it? The fog?" Jon asked.

"Sometimes," Martin answered, sniffling quietly. "It felt...safer...easier to retreat. It never - it hurt to exist in the world, Jon. I was always alone. I was always afraid. Working at the Institute just made it more apparent."

"I'm sorry for my contribution to it," Jon said. Martin shook his head

"We've been over this, Jon," Martin said. "You're not the same person that you were then. Past you wouldn't know how to handle current you."

"And past you?" Jon asked.

"He'd still think you were hot," Martin said. Jon snorted and Martin felt a tight surge of love in his chest.

"Not what I was going for, but good to know," Jon said. "I think past you would be stunned as well."

"I'm not that different then I was before," Martin argued.

"That's not true at all," Jon said. He moved in closer and Martin reveled in the scent of him again. "You've changed, but only for the better. Most people would've given up by now. Most people wouldn't have seen a person worth loving beneath my prickly surface. You've come so far despite everything you've been put through by your mother, by Elias, by...me."

"Jon," Martin said, sternly, "stop trying to give me an out. I won't take it. You're stuck with me."

"Good," he said, exhaling a grateful sigh, "because I think I'd be lost without you."

"That's a bit hyperbolic," Martin said.

"It's still the truth," Jon said. "You're still my reason. If we actually succeed at saving the world, it's because of you, Martin."

A new batch of tears fell and Martin couldn't be bothered with thinking about his splotchy face, stuffed nose, and the mortifying sound of sobs escaping his throat. There was just him and Jon at the end of the world, stronger together than they were apart. That was a good thing to cry over and he missed having a purpose for happy tears.

He fell into Jon's arms. The embrace came at an awkward angle but it was no less comforting to snuggle around Jon and breathe him in again. If not for the epic responsibility of saving the world, he'd have been glad to stay in this moment for as long as possible. Jon made no move to hurry him along. He rubbed soothing circles across Martin's back and whispered nonsense into his ears. All of it was for Martin and it was the most beautiful gift he'd ever received.

"How far off until the next domain?" Martin asked once the sobs had ebbed a bit.

"It doesn't matter," Jon said, gently. "Take as long as you need."

"Jon, we should still--"

"You're more important than the journey," Jon said. Martin nodded. "We leave when you're ready. Just...stay with me. By my side. I promise not to walk too far ahead. Not anymore."

Side by side. No leader, no follower.

Partners.

Martin smiled.

"I think I can do that."


End file.
